


If you want it done right…

by stjarna



Series: Writing Prompts / Drabbles / Requests [32]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: B Squad, Engineering VS Biochem, F/M, Friends to Lover (ish), Gen, Rescue, Season 2 AU, Some characters only mentioned, Team Engineering, Tumblr Prompt, Woman on fire, post 2x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 01:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Based on an anon Tumblr prompt: An au in season 2 if Ward double crossed/did something with hunter and fitz after coulson turned himself in. And if you could bring in the missing b squad since you are so good with them.





	If you want it done right…

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to @dilkirani for another beta :)

“How could you?”

Piper, Davis, and Prince stop in their tracks when they pass the Director’s office and hear Agent Simmons yelling at the top of her lungs.

“After everything Ward has done? How could you possibly have trusted him?” the English scientist screams.

The three agents look at each other in slight confusion, before their eyes wander to the office’s door, the blurry outlines of at least six people visible through the milky glass of the entrance. One of the indistinct silhouettes is gesturing wildly.

“How could you have left Fitz and Hunter alone with him? Especially when Hunter is injured, so Fitz is practically by himself against Ward and a brainwashed former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent!”

Piper, Davis, and Prince exchange worried looks. Rumor had spread that Agents Morse and Mackenzie had returned with Director Coulson in tow, but no one knew any details about what had led to his capture, and it was the first they’d heard mention of Fitz and Hunter since The Real S.H.I.E.L.D. had invaded the base. That Ward was somehow involved and whatever brainwashed S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Simmons was talking about, was news none of the three agents had been expecting.

“You threw them to the wolves!” Simmons screams, her arms flying in the air, before pointing angrily at one of the blurry figures. “You made a deal with the devil and it blew up in your face.”

“I’m sorry, Jemma,” Coulson replies, his tone—as usual—calm and composed. “There was no—”

“Don’t you dare tell me there was no other way, or to think of the bigger picture,” Simmons interjects, her voice still booming with fury. “This is unacceptable, Sir. I realize very well what kind of dire situation S.H.I.E.L.D. currently is in, and I’m just as worried about Skye as you are, but Ward is—He did exactly what we would expect him to do: double-cross us! He now has two highly valuable agents as well as a quinjet with access to practically all of our data! And if Ward so much as hurts a single hair on Fitz, I will hold you personally responsible for it and make you suffer!”

“Agent Simmons, I assure you—” Gonzales tries to chime in, but he’s cut short by the biochemist.

“I’ve had enough of all this! Real S.H.I.E.L.D. Our S.H.I.E.L.D. We should be working together. And instead we’re playing cat and mouse with each other, mistrusting people who are supposed to be our friends and allies while Hydra is out there. They have Mike Peterson now, and we are still nowhere closer to finding Skye, and Fitz and Hunter are in Ward’s hands and I can’t believe you people.”

“Hey, if Fury hadn’t—” Bobbi begins at the same time Coulson tries to speak, “Hey, if the Real S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t—”

“Shut up!”

Simmons’ command is so loud and forceful that the three agents in the hallway flinch, their eyes darting from side to side to check in with each other. They’d never heard the petite English scientist quite so angry before.

“All of you. Shut up and fix this!” Simmons shouts. “Now! OR I WILL!”

For a moment the blurry figures behind the milky glass stand in silence, until Bobbi Morse calmly but sternly speaks up again.

“Jemma, I’m not happy about it either, but finding Skye and Mike Peterson should be—” But she never manages to finish her sentence.

“Fine. Solo-mission it is then.” Simmons’ tone is harsh and bitter.

Her figure turns, taking a few steps towards the office door, and Piper, Davis, and Prince instinctively back away until they stand pressed against the wall across from the Director’s office.

The door swings open, and Agent Simmons steps outside, her eyes fiery and filled with determination.

The three agents catch a glimpse of Morse, May, Weaver, Coulson and Gonzales, the latter trying to call after the furious English biochemist, who, however, never looks back, rushing down the hallway with fast, energetic steps.

* * *

Jemma had no idea that one could tie shoelaces so angrily. She’s half-afraid that she’ll pull so strongly on the laces of her boots that she’ll rip them off, but then those damn things are supposed to be built to last. The tact gear feels uncomfortably tight. She doesn’t wear it often and would certainly not complain about that fact under different circumstances, but right now, the ability to breathe without feeling constricted would certainly help to alleviate her anxiety. Then again, maybe her anxiety is the reason why she can’t breathe in the first place.

Of course she knows it’s a bit foolish to try and go after Ward by herself, but then again, she doesn’t really have a choice. Neither S.H.I.E.L.D. nor the Real S.H.I.E.L.D. ( _Gosh, never had the urge to place air quotes around a word been stronger_ ) are willing to send a rescue team after Fitz and Hunter. It’s simply not acceptable. After everything that had happened to them in the past few days, weeks, months, Jemma simply cannot and will not stand idly by while Fitz is in mortal danger… especially considering—

“Agent Simmons.”

“What?” Jemma yells, angry about being pulled out of her own thoughts, presumably by someone who had come to stop her.

She calms down somewhat when she sees the surprised and almost fearful three faces looking back at her.

“What do you want?” Jemma repeats more quietly.

“We heard you,” Agent Davis says calmly. “What you said in the Director’s office.”

Piper stands next to him, one corner of her mouth ticked up into a sheepish half-grin, although her eyes are full of sincerity. “Wasn’t exactly hard to hear you.”

“We want to offer our help,” Prince adds.

Slowly, Jemma straightens up, her eyes wandering from one agent to the next. “Your help?”

Davis bops his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Rescuing Agents Fitz and Hunter.”

Jemma feels tears rushing to her eyes. She swallows hard, hoping she can bring her voice to speak audibly. “You do? But this isn’t an authorized mission.”

Piper scoffs, shrugging slightly. “What’s authorized these days anyways?”

* * *

* * *

Ward pushes him through the door and Fitz stumbles to the ground as the heavy metal door falls in its lock behind him. He hears Ward turn the key.

For a moment, Fitz remains on all fours, spitting out some blood as he tries to catch his breath. It hurts to breathe. He had heard at least two ribs crack while Ward had tortured him. His wrists are raw from where the bastard had chained him to the ceiling, and his tongue tastes metallic from blood.

Eventually, Fitz looks up and crawls over to where Hunter is lying on the floor. He leans over his friend, carefully lifting one eyelid.

Hunter jerks, blinking rapidly as he wakes up—whether from sleep or unconsciousness, Fitz can’t quite tell.

Hunter grimaces in pain as he pushes himself up to seating, resting his back against the cold stonewall of their makeshift cell. “I see you’ve returned to me, my love.”

Fitz groans, resisting the urge to slap Hunter for the stupid attempt at a joke. He sits down next to Hunter, grunting when a sharp sting rushes through his lungs. “How you feeling?”

Hunter leans slightly forward, eyeing Fitz up and down and gesturing at Fitz’s face. “Could ask you the same, mate. Can you even still see through that eye?”

Fitz scoffs, his fingers carefully reaching up to inspect how swollen his left eye is where Ward had punched him repeatedly. “Good enough to recognize your ugly face.”

Hunter lets out something resembling a laugh, followed by a painful cough. “Now, now, no need to get personal.”

“He double-crossed us, Hunter. We should have never—” Fitz lets his head drop back against the wall, banging it against the hard surface gently but with purpose. “I knew it was a terrible idea. I knew he would do it. I knew he’s a murderer and a psychopath, and yet I didn’t do anything to stop Coulson and—”

“We didn’t have much of a choice, Fitz. I know this wasn’t ideal.”

“Not ideal?” Fitz scoffs, turning his head to look at his injured friend with wide-open eyes.

“I know our plan blew up in our face—” But Hunter doesn’t finish his sentence, instead sighing deeply and letting silence settle in the room.

For a while, Fitz just stares straight at the ceiling, clenching his jaw and trying to will the pain in his aching body away.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Hunter,” he finally admits quietly. “So far Ward’s holding back, that much I can tell. But I’m not sure I know why yet. Probably not exactly due to the goodness of his heart.”

Fitz shifts in his seat, grimacing in pain as he turns to inspect Hunter’s gunshot wound. Hunter flinches when Fitz’s fingers brush over the injury.

“I’m just glad they haven’t tried themselves on you yet,” Fitz remarks matter-of-factly. “That wound needs medical attention.”

“I’m fine, mate. Don’t wo—”

The sound of an explosion makes Hunter freeze mid-word. The ground and walls shake slightly, and small pieces of debris rain down on them from the ceiling.

“What was that?” Fitz asks quietly, his eyes fixed on the door.

The sound of several machine guns ring through the building, and Fitz can’t stop the corners of his mouth from ticking up into the hint of a hopeful smile.

“Cavalry?” Hunter suggests.

Fitz pushes himself up to standing, using the wall to balance himself when he hears footsteps rushing towards the door. “Don’t call her that.”

He flinches when the door blasts open and his eyes widen in shock and surprise when the dust settles and he sees Agent Piper standing in the door, swinging her rifle up and resting it nonchalantly against her shoulder, while her free hand rests on her hip.

“Someone order a rescue team?”

“Piper?” Hunter mutters quietly, still sitting on the floor.

Piper grins widely, but stumbles to the side when Jemma pushes past her, rushing straight for Fitz.

Her hands immediately reach for him, and Fitz grimaces in pain when her fingers assess the bruises and injuries on his face.

“Fitz, oh, Fitz,” she mutters, her gaze wandering from his swollen eye to the cut on his lower lip, while her fingertips carefully trace his jawline. “Oh, I’m gonna kill Ward. And Coulson. And Gonzales. And Bobbi. And—”

“Jemma,” Fitz tries to interject, wrapping his hands around her wrists, a relieved smile flashing across his face.

She blinks and Fitz notices the tears in her eyes, as her hands slowly glide from his face to his chest. “Oh, what did he do to you?”

Her gaze is mesmerizing and makes Fitz’s heart beat faster and his stomach twinge. He can feel his body move closer to her, notices himself leaning in to kiss her, unable to stop whatever magnetic forces are at work. She doesn’t seem to mind.

“Not to draw attention away from his torture wounds, but I’ve been shot. Just sayin’.”

Fitz gasps in surprise at Hunter’s unexpected interruption, letting go of Jemma’s wrists. She quickly lowers her gaze, a soft blush reddening her cheeks.

She clears her throat, looking first at Hunter and then turning to Piper.

“Piper, could you help Hunter?”

“Sure thing.” Piper rushes over to Hunter, helping the grunting Brit up and wrapping his arm around her shoulders to assist him.

Jemma grabs Fitz’s hand, guiding his arm up and around her shoulders, while her free hand glides around his lower back. Fitz tries not to lean on her too heavily, but his aching body welcomes the support of hers.

Fitz takes a careful step forward, feeling his stomach muscles tighten when a shooting pain rushes through his lungs. “Where’s Ward? And Agent 33? How did you—?”

“Davis and Prince took care of them,” Jemma explains. “They’re already taking them to the quinjet. Unconscious and in cuffs.”

“Davis and Prince?” Hunter asks, audibly surprised as he takes another shaky step forward. “You form some kind of splinter group?”

Piper sounds strained, carrying most of Hunter’s weight as well as her tact gear. “Well, we heard it’s all the rage these days. S.H.I.E.L.D., Real S.H.I.E.L.D., and us… The Best of the Best Rogue Rescue Squad.”

Hunter looks at the agent. “Bit of a long name, don’t you think?”

Jemma rolls her eyes as she follows Piper and Hunter with Fitz’s arm draped around her shoulders. “Maybe we can save semantics for later?”

“I second that,” Fitz chimes in.

Hunter ignores their request. “B Squad. There you go. Nice and short.”

“Ugh. Shut up, Hunter!”


End file.
